Taboo
by The Black Sun's Daughter
Summary: It was the unspoken rule, ingrained in the mind of every living person, something they never had to be told. They knew it as instinctually as comfort was good and hurt was bad: never touch another person's dæmon.


"What does the artefact do?"

Connor lifted his head groggily, his vision an indistinct red blur on the left because blood had run in his eye, and his hands weren't free to wipe it away. His head was ringing, his mouth tasted of copper, and his entire body was one massive bruise. It wouldn't have been so bad if Imzadi was with him, but his dear soul was in a cage on the other side of the room, their link stretched to its limits, the constant, twisting pain in his heart ensuring he never got even a second's reprieve.

Helen sat on the edge of the table beside Imzadi's cage, Şahmaran laid across her lap with his long, forked tongue flickering in and out lazily. She stroked her dæmon with one hand, the other resting on the top of the cage. Taunting him.

"What does the artefact do?" she repeated, her voice like silk across wet stone, but her fingers drummed restlessly atop the cage, giving away her frustration. They'd been at this the past two days, and he still refused to talk. Connor knew the others would find him soon, it was just a matter of holding out until then.

He spit out a mouthful of blood, wheezing slightly, pain lancing through his sides whenever he breathed. Cracked ribs, no doubt. "Piss...off...you...cow," he spat, spacing out each word to ensure she got his message.

Şahmaran hissed, showing his teeth, and Helen lightly stroked his scaly back, soothing. "Now, now, let's play nice, boys. Connor, you're only making this harder on yourself. I know how close you were to Nick, I know he must have told you what this does," she said, reaching around with one hand to hold up the artefact; she'd stolen it from the ARC when she kidnapped him. Sarah and Ki hadn't even started cleaning it off like they'd promised to do, so it was still covered in its hard, lumpy layer of gritty dirt.

Connor swallowed thickly, even that hurting, the sight of the artefact and the mention of his professor's name making his still-raw loss ache all over again. It still haunted him at night when he slept, sitting in the burning ARC at his mentor's side through his last moments, watching Laiguline vanish into a shimmer of Dust as Cutter went limp against his side. His eyes prickled with tears that he had to hastily blink away.

"What does it do, Connor?" Helen cajoled, her voice softening to the point of almost being gentle. As if she was capable of such a human emotion.

Refocusing on the present rather than the past, he felt the simmering, ever-persisted animosity he harboured for her come searing back up, briefly burning away the pain he felt. Imzadi bristled from her cage, fluffing up slightly as she bared her teeth at Şahmaran. "Go to hell, bitch," he snarled.

Helen's expression cooled, eyes going hard as she sat back and set the artefact down. "Very well, then. I gave you every opportunity to do this the easy way, but since you are so bound and determined to carry on Nick's foolish, misguided mission, I suppose we'll have to resort to other measures."

 _This is the easy way?_ he thought to himself. _What's the hard way? Making me watch Gone With the Wind? Twilight? The Sound of Music?_

Helen shifted Şahmaran off her lap, the enormous reptile slinking around to the cage that still held his dæmon. Imzadi bristled defencively, but he still felt her fear, just as she felt his own. His heart made a leapfrog up into his throat as Helen unlocked the cage, then dropped into his toes when he realised what she was going to do. "Helen...no, stop this. You can't. It's not allowed!" he gasped, hyperventilating. He yanked against his binds, ignoring the burn and the metal edges cutting into his skin, the pain moving sent through his body. None of it mattered. None of it. He had to get stop this, had to stop her. She couldn't possibly do this.

"Last chance, Connor," Helen purred, one hand lingering on the latch of the cage, her other hand hovering above it, waiting. Şahmaran was practically wriggling in delight, grinning awfully, tongue flickering out as if to taste their fear.

"No! No! Don't do this, please!" he wailed, twisting in his binds even as Imzadi desperately scrabbled against the bars, ears flat to her skull, tail between her legs and almost pressed to her belly, eyes wide.

Helen opened the cage, her hand darting in with the speed of a striking serpent, and she _grabbed_ Imzadi, his dæmon, his soul, in both hands.

Connor screamed.


End file.
